


A Study in Starfleet

by Sidney Sussex (SidneySussex)



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3121421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidneySussex/pseuds/Sidney%20Sussex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's a bad idea to let the holodeck do the thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Starfleet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpishTubist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/gifts).



> _A birthday gift for a most awesome friend._
> 
> _I neither own nor profit from any of these characters; they are the property of some insane conglomeration of Paramount, Viacom, CBS and Gene Roddenberry, as well as, of course, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle._
> 
> _If you see something that you think ought to be changed or improved, please feel free to let me know, if you'd like. Constructive criticism is always welcome._

It’s not the first time he’s donned a tweed jacket and a deerstalker for holodeck adventures with Data. Sherlock Holmes stories are some of Data’s favourite scenarios, and he wonders which one it’ll be this time – _The Sign of Four_? _The Empty House_? Geordi’s noticed that, although Data seems to prefer the more puzzle-like scenarios, he tends to consciously avoid them. Maybe he thinks it’s more human to focus on studies of emotion, rather than intellect; cases where Holmes’ understanding of human nature is pivotal are the ones they seem to end up visiting the most. Maybe they’re just the ones he has the hardest time internalizing. Or maybe he thinks that if he tries them enough times, a little of Holmes’ incisive commentary on the human condition will rub off on him. Data knows he only has to do something once to know it fully and completely, but he also knows that knowing isn’t the same thing as understanding – and that’s what he most admires about Holmes; not his cleverness, because Data knows more than enough clever people, but his emotional intelligence.

When they step in, Geordi looks around and doesn’t recognize where they are. It isn’t that surprising – there are sixty Holmes stories and he’s only tried out a few of them with his friend – but it is a little startling that Data hasn’t already told him which adventure they’ll be having and why and what exactly he should be doing and saying and looking out for. Geordi’s usually enduring the cheerful relating of far too much information, rather than too little, so he asks.

“This is not a typical Sherlock Holmes adventure scenario,” Data says.

“All right, what is it?”

“I have asked the computer to extrapolate from the existing works and create new adventures,” says Data. “You explained to me once that the pleasure of such an activity is in the mystery, and I cannot experience the mystery if I already know the solution.”

Geordi thinks back to the last time they tried to get the holodeck to extrapolate. “Do you really think this will work, Data? The holodeck isn’t really designed for self-writing programs.”

“I have used a strategic modelling algorithm from the training computers to improve the computer’s ability to create believable, functional scenarios. I did the weighting myself.”

“And you’re sure this won’t turn around and try to kill us.”

“That is not what the program is designed to do. It is also not typical of a Sherlock Holmes scenario. And I have not disengaged the holodeck safety functions.”

Geordi supposes that’s as good as he’ll get in terms of reassurance. “Okay, Data. Let’s go,” he says, straightening his cap and heading for the dining table where so many of their Holmesian adventures begin. For some reason, it’s always breakfast time on the holodeck.

 

* * *

 

“I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Holmes,” says Data, shaking the hand of the tall, lanky man who’s just complimented Geordi’s deerstalker.

“Data,” whispers Geordi, “I thought _you_ were supposed to be Sherlock Holmes.”

“Evidently,” says Data, who’s learnt to lower his voice appropriately, “this time, I am not.” He doesn’t seem to mind; he just seems, if Geordi’s any judge of his friend, intrigued.

Another man, not quite as tall or as lanky, closes the door behind himself. He’s standing expectantly at Holmes’ shoulder, sizing Data and Geordi up (and Geordi always wonders when they do Sherlock Holmes why no one ever seems to notice his visor; so much for Holmes’ skills of observation).

“Uh, Data,” says Geordi, who knows perfectly well what the holodeck’s version of John Watson looks like, “who’s that?”

“I do not know yet,” says Data.

It isn’t long before Geordi’s question is answered, though, because the man steps around Holmes to introduce himself, not waiting for the great detective himself to perform the honours. “Victor Trevor,” he says, and though Data’s expression of mild confusion clears up instantly, Geordi still has no idea who that is.

 

* * *

 

Holmes and Trevor are quietly conferring in a corner. Data and Geordi can’t quite hear what they’re saying to one another. Trevor has one arm across Holmes’ back, though, and they’re leaning closer together than seems strictly necessary for a low-voiced conversation. Geordi’s gotten pretty good at reading body language (it’s easier to see than facial expressions, visor or no, and it’s often more revealing, too) and he doesn’t think these two have the same kind of working relationship as Holmes and Watson do.

“But…” and Geordi is clearly not understanding something, “why is he _here_? And where’s John Watson?”

“Evidently, Doctor Watson was unavailable,” says Data. “Therefore, the computer judged it reasonable to select one of Sherlock Holmes’ oldest and most intelligent colleagues – Victor Trevor.”

Geordi’s still watching them. “Data, I don’t think that’s what ‘colleagues’ look like.”

Data adopts his usual uncertain look. It’s the first expression he learnt, because confusion is easy for him to understand – when things don’t match up logically to him and he doesn’t already have the ability to write it off as human inconsistency, that’s confusion, and there’s an appropriate way of using eyes and mouth and angle of head to express it.

“I don’t really understand, though,” Geordi continues, forestalling Data. “Why would the holodeck give us him instead of Watson? It’s not like he’s away on business or anything – he’s a computer program!”

Data tilts his head a little more and smiles, which is almost starting to look natural now (he’s been practising for a while). It’s how he shows that he thinks he’s gotten to the bottom of whatever problem he’s been working on, and that he’s found a solution to it there.

“Geordi,” says Data, “I think it would be fair to describe you, in human terms, as my ‘best friend.’ Would you say that is a fair evaluation?”

“I, uh…” He isn’t sure how to handle this. “I’m honoured, Data. I’d say you’re mine, too.”

“Hm.” Data processes that for a minute, but calmly, as if he’d never had any doubt in the first place. “But you are not my only friend, Geordi. I enjoy spending time with other crew members.”

“I… know that,” Geordi says cautiously. “I got other friends, too, Data.”

“Of course,” says Data. “One day you may even take a long-term partner. If that were to occur, your relationship with them would be different to the one you and I share, and different to those you share with other members of the crew.”

Geordi vaguely wants to argue this point, but he thinks it’s probably wiser not to, for a lot of reasons he doesn’t feel like explaining or even fully understanding at this point.

Data cocks his head. “I believe Doctor Watson is Sherlock Holmes’ best friend,” he says, “but that does not mean that he cannot work with or enjoy the company of other metaphorical crew members.”

They both look back at Holmes and Trevor. Victor Trevor’s arm has crept up Holmes’ back, his hand resting so that the fingers brush the hair at the back of Holmes’ neck.

“If I were given to speculation,” says Data, and Geordi grins (Data has been getting better and better at speculating), “I would say that their body language is indicative of long-term friendship. After all, they have known one another for many years.”

“I know the stories, Data,” says Geordi, who doesn’t really, but at least remembers that they’re supposed to have met in the academy or something like that. He thinks ‘friendship’ might be stretching a point a little with the way Holmes and Trevor are behaving, but he supposes it’s close enough. Anyway, he doesn’t want to be the guy who has to explain it to Data.

“Hm,” Data says again, and continues watching the two men in the corner.

 

* * *

 

They’re in Engineering. Holmes’ latest adversary is long since caught, his link to Moriarty revealed, and the holodeck program saved for next time. It seems the computer is playing the long game. Data’s thrilled. Geordi supposes he has no objection, and as long as Data’s happy, he’s happy.

The warp core has been giving off some strange signals, and Geordi suspects the matter-antimatter ratios are undergoing microscopic temporal fluctuations. It’s only a hunch, though, and his instruments aren’t sensitive enough to pick it up, so he has Data there to try to detect the signals and bring the system back into alignment.

Data leans forward, squinting at the warp core (unnecessary, of course, but he’s got that kind of human mannerism down pretty well – it’s just the meanings that sometimes escape him). A second later, Geordi leaps forward like he’s been shocked.

“Did I do something wrong?” Data asks, wide-eyed in a positronic simulation of worry.

“Data, you don’t – you can’t just –” Geordi sighs. The truth is, Data hasn’t really done anything _that_ wrong, but… well, he can’t go around doing that to everyone… can he? _Does_ he? “That’s… not a typical mode of interaction,” he says finally, slipping into formal Data-speak because it’s the easiest way to say it.

“I was merely attempting to model my behaviour on the example of Sherlock Holmes,” says Data as he withdraws his hand from the small of Geordi’s back. “Is that not how old friends behave? You and I have known each other for –”

“I know, Data,” says Geordi, who doesn’t need to hear how many seconds it’s been since he met his android friend, especially not now. “Just…” He sighs. He’s going to have to explain. “Data, I don’t think Sherlock Holmes and Victor Trevor are just friends.”

Data cocks his head enquiringly.

“I think they’re _together_ together,” Geordi says, feeling like a high schooler. “As in, I think they’re involved.”

There’s a pause, and then understanding dawns in Data’s eyes. “You mean they are in a romantic relationship.”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Then I should not treat you the way Holmes and Trevor treat one another, despite our friendship.”

 _Yeah_ , thinks Geordi. _Yeah, you should_.

“Probably not,” he says aloud.

“I apologize for alarming you,” says Data, and Geordi remembers that Data can read his pulse, his heart rate, the thin sheen of perspiration on his palms. Everything.

 _Sure_ , he thinks. _Alarming me_.

“It’s fine,” he says aloud.

Data nods and turns his attention back to the warp core. “I believe I have isolated the source of your problems,” he says a moment later.

Geordi thinks, _Oh, God, I hope you never do_.

“That’s great,” he says aloud, and leans over the main Engineering computer screen, ready to follow Data’s lead.


End file.
